Heart of Glass
by Ansy Pansy aka Panz
Summary: A different version of the hospital benefit scene episode 3.22. SPOILER WARNING! Can we call it Kandy any more? They’re so disconnected.


Heart of Glass

**Summary:** A different version of the hospital benefit scene episode 3.22. (SPOILER WARNING!) Can we call it Kandy any more? They're so disconnected.

**Disclaimer: **

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I loved the hospital benefit scene so much. Really. It was just fantastic. But I'd also been thinking about several ways it could happen before I saw it, as had Em. This is really a join fic of ours lol! We have ideas and I write them…because she's too lazy to do it haha.

So this is how we thought it might happen with Kandy going round making snipes at each other, her walking off and then also my reaction to what I'd want Kirsten to say if Sandy followed her outside. So really it's a mix of before-and-after thoughts, some original and some twisted ways of using the fabby lines they gave us in the ep!

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'Well as you know, behind every successful man is a very surprised woman,' Sandy quipped to the crowd, ignoring the glare on Kirsten's face.

'Are you surprised Kirsten?'

She looked up, trying to smile but finding when she lifted the corners of her mouth it made the threatening tears closer to falling. 'I guess I am…I'm surprised at the lengths or is it depths Sandy has gone to for this hospital.'

'He's a dedicated man.'

'Oh yes he's told countless times over the last year how _important_ this hospital is to him.' Sandy forced himself not to react to the bitterness in her tone, laughing awkwardly, the sound hollow. The listeners didn't seem to notice and joined in.

'Well it is very important,' someone agreed. 'When this hospital is built it'll be a great success.'

'If it ever gets built.' Kirsten muttered.

'Likes to keep me grounded, my wife,' Sandy added quickly, smiling again. One of the guests turned to Kirsten. 'You must be proud though? Do you think your father would be proud?'

She was glad the questions were in quick succession and she could escape the first one. 'Oh I think my dad would be very proud of Sandy Cohen. He didn't think he had it in him.'

'And you?'

Damn, no escape. 'I'm just glad it's not another golf course. Seems to me like most husbands don't need any further excuse to be away from their families.'

'You're not a fan of golf then Kirsten?'

It was gonna be a long night.

---

Her husband was whispering in her ear but sadly they weren't sweet nothings, messages of love or his plans to leave early and log some 'quality time'. 'Can't you at least smile?' he said, the false smile she'd had plastered on her face had slipped somewhat and it was making him feel awkward.

'Don't treat me like a Newpsie wife Sandy because I'm not.'

'I wasn't. I was just _asking_ you to be more supportive.'

'I'm not gonna be supportive of something I don't support.'

'You don't support the hospital? Kirsten, it could do so much good…'

'And so much evil at the same time.'

'We all have to make sacrifices sometimes.'

'And sometimes you're chosen to be sacrificed.'

'Now we're getting philosophical.'

'I'm sorry. I forgot how you don't have a philosophy anymore. That went out the window with your ethics.'

'What?'

'Nothing.'

'Kirsten.'

'Sandy!' a couple greeted the 'man of the hour' and Kirsten contorted her face into a smile that resembled more of a grimace. The conversation was soon bypassing her as the two men talked and the other woman excused herself to go to the bar giving Kirsten a pointed look. This was why she didn't go to these things anymore. New Match parties were different; she had a role to play and she had Julie. Where the hell _was_ Julie? She'd probably appear soon, more than fashionably late, as usual, all glowing and giggly. She and Neil had way too much sex. Kirsten told herself she wasn't feeling jealous. She didn't _want_ her husband these days, or…she did but she didn't want to. Maybe it was childish but she felt like she had to punish him somehow. But of course that didn't matter lately; he hadn't tried anything for weeks; he hadn't been home early enough.

---

'Mr Cohen?' a bespectacled man approached and shook their hands. The conversation quickly turned to, surprise, surprise, the Newport Group. Kirsten sighed and began steadfastly studying her fingernails. She hated that place. She was sick of it. Letting Sandy take it on had been one of her biggest mistakes. She who knew what it could do to people had agreed to it and now it was hurting them all. But he'd been so excited she couldn't dampen that enthusiasm and of course she'd never dreamed it would turn out like this. That Sandy could possibly change like this. She returned her attention to the conversation, ears pricking at a question she knew her husband would struggle to answer. She had to smother a smirk as she heard, 'How do you explain about the company's failure to hedge it's portfolio against the rise of long term interest rates?'

Sandy blinked and drew his bushy eyebrows together, 'Well, uh…that is a good question.' He glanced desperately at Kirsten who merely smiled at the other man and nodded. 'Yes,' she agreed wickedly, raising her eyebrows at her husband. He began to stutter about the situation of the Newport Group, the tightness of its budget, its new 'progress before profits' approach, the measures they had to combat inflation and his personal mistrust of long-term predictions especially since Greenspan's retirement. Kirsten had to admire his courage at trying to answer even as she enjoyed watching him squirm. Perhaps he wasn't quite like her father just yet; Caleb would have laughed and immediately plied the questioner with so much scotch they'd forget their name never mind their question.

The man nodded, his head obviously spinning courtesy of Sandy's ramble. 'Very interesting,' he mumbled and pretended to recognise someone behind them to escape.

'You could have jumped in Kirsten; I had no idea what to say in reply to that.' Sandy immediately reproach his wife.

'I thought you were fine on your own. My opinion doesn't usually matter.'

'You're the one with the business knowledge.'

'And you're the one who keeps refusing to take my advice.'

'Because you keep telling me to quit.'

'Quitting isn't the same as failing Sandy. I for one know that.'

'I'm sorry okay?'

'I'm sorry too. Sorry that I was crazy enough to think that a simple appeal from a wife to a husband might get some traction.'

'We're not doing this here,' Sandy hissed.

'We're not doing anything anymore. Not together.'

'It'll get better.'

'Really? I'm meant to believe you this time.'

'Don't then.'

'Look, can we just go home?' Kirsten pleaded.

'Please Kirsten, you're not six.'

'I really wanna go home.'

'The evening isn't over yet.'

'Sandy Cohen insisting we stay on to the end of a Newport party, I never thought I'd see the day.'

'This is important to me.'

'What about what's important to me? Oh I forgot; I don't matter any more.'

'Don't be stupid.'

'I'm not. I just want to leave.'

'We are not leaving.'

'I don't…feel so good.'

'Don't put on an act.'

'Sandy! This is serious…I…'

'You what?'

'Lately I've been feeling kinda…'

'Ill?'

'No…'

'Well then.'

'I've felt like I need to…that I want to…'

'Spit it out.'

'Oh just forget it.'

'Kirsten.'

'It doesn't matter.'

Without further ado Sandy turned to his neighbour and began a conversation.

'It doesn't matter to you anyway,' she added under her breath.

It was getting worse. She couldn't stay here, not feeling like this. She tried counting the minutes, focusing on the second-hand of her watch but it didn't help. She counted the people in the room, the colours of dresses, guessed the age of the guests, the number of times they'd had plastic surgery…nothing could keep her attention for more than a couple of minutes.

'Sandy?' she said at last. She hated the note of desperation she could feel. She felt needy, childish.

'Yes honey?' She was surprised the affectionate term didn't stick in his throat.

'Can I take the car home?'

'What now?'

'Yeah. I'm sure Neil would give you a lift…'

'But I want you here with me.'

'And _I_ want to go home.'

The unfortunate man Sandy had been talking to looked from one to the other and hastily excused himself.

'We won't stay that much longer,' her husband said.

---

Famous last words; an entire hour later they were still stood in this godforsaken room talking to people, or rather, Sandy was talking to people and Kirsten was steadfastly ignoring them and being ignored in return. Was it because she was an alcoholic that she could become so easily invisible? She knew that a lot of people in this town had only talked to her because of her father but did him dying make her a nobody? In some ways she wanted that, in others it really pissed her off. How come no one seemed to remember that she had worked at the Newport Group for fifteen years? That she'd single-handedly run the company when her father was off gallivanting with models forty years his junior, when he was embroiled in his legal troubles despite Julie being named CEO, when Julie Cooper had gone into hiding in Europe. No one wanted her experienced opinion, her business analysis; they simply expected a proud, wifely response to their questions when they bothered to address them to her. Well they sure as hell weren't gonna get it from her.

'Sandy,' Kirsten interrupted again.

'One second honey.'

'Sandy,' she hissed threateningly.

Her husband didn't look at her, merely lifting his hand, his finger raised in a gesture that plainly said 'wait'.

'You did not just give me the finger,' she spat and turning on her heel she was gone. When Sandy turned to ask her something and found an empty space he stuttered for a moment before regaining his composure. 'Oh…er...um, Kirsten gets so bored of all this hospital talk, she's probably gone to find Julie,' he lied; Sandy was pretty sure he'd seen Julie and Neil heading for Neil's Macerate a good ten minutes ago. He scanned the crowd anxiously. She was upset and pissed at him and he really didn't want everyone to know. They needed to talk about this.

There was no sign of her and he returned his attention to the doctor in front of him. Another man came to join them and Sandy managed to extricate himself. The room was filled with people but no Kirsten. He was edging his way through the guests looking for her when yet another suit caught him and began extolling the new hospital. It was Sandy's favourite subject but he couldn't concentrate; he'd caught sight of a blonde head weaving between the people on the far side of the room.

'I am so grateful for your support,' Sandy said, interrupting the man mid-flow before diving into the melee. He was about halfway there when someone else appeared and shook his hand vigorously. A round of introductions followed and he lost sight of Kirsten again. He was nodding politely to the woman's story when he realised his wife was only a little way ahead. She glanced back at him, her eyes dark and glassy again, but wouldn't meet his apologetic gaze. Sandy felt a clap on his shoulder and when she saw him turn to meet and greet yet another medic she turned away, slipping between more guests until she was hidden once more.

'It's a pleasure to meet you,' Sandy said, hurriedly shaking the hand of whoever it happened to be, 'but I'm afraid I was just…' He waved in the general direction of the crowd and they laughed. 'Of course, you've lots of networking to do.'

Sandy nodded thankfully but he'd barely moved three feet before he was ambushed again. He recognised Newport's leading consultant and knew he couldn't fob him off; this man's support for the hospital would be crucial. They had talked for several minutes when, over the man's Armani-clad shoulder he saw the crowds shift slightly and Kirsten was visible stood in the corner. He tried to wind up the conversation, his eyes on his wife who was leaning against the wall looking lost. There was a nagging anxiety in his stomach as he noticed the way she was biting her lip and how often her gaze flicked to the bar. The real giveaway was her hand repeatedly clenching and unclenching beside her. She wanted a drink. He'd recognise the signs anywhere.

'We should really talk about this again sometime,' Sandy gabbled, although for all he knew the consultant could have been praising his three year-old nephew rather than the hospital. He had noticed Kirsten straighten up and walk away from the corner, 'Call my secretary; she'll set up an appointment.' This last was said over his shoulder as he pushed past a group of gossiping women, thankful they didn't want to talk to him, although they probably were talking _about_ him, and Kirsten.

Kirsten. She was out of view again, the crowds having moved in the way once more. He thought he saw her moving a little to the right but he couldn't be sure. It looked like she was heading… Sandy changed tack. Ignoring several greetings he made a beeline for the bar only to find it empty…save for one glass. A wine glass. Empty. The dregs of white wine pooling where the stem met the bulb.

Perhaps he was wrong. He so wanted to be wrong but he had a horrible feeling that he wasn't this time. He lifted the crystal and, glancing around, sheepishly sniffed. He wasn't a wine connoisseur; it could be Chardonnay, it could be anything. At this point would Kirsten even care?  
Kirsten. What the hell was he doing standing here? He had to find her. His senses caught up with his mind and he remembered hearing a door slam. Sandy headed for the doorway only to find it blocked by Julie and Neil. 'Sandy my man,' the latter greeted him. He'd obviously just got lucky Sandy mused; Neil hadn't been that friendly even when Seth was dating his daughter. Or maybe that had been the problem.

'Have you see Kirsten,' he asked frantically.

The pair shook their heads. 'No sorry, but she'll be around somewhere I'm sure. Now, there are a few more people I want you to meet…'

'What's wrong?' Julie spoke over her fiancé.

'I'm not sure yet,' Sandy muttered, slipping out into the balmy night. He could see their car still in the parking lot so he knew she hadn't driven home. Of course, he had the keys so she couldn't he remembered.

'Kirsten?' he called hesitantly as he began to make his way along the front of the building. It was at the corner he heard sobs and quickened his pace. Around the other side he found Kirsten stood resting against the wall and crying brokenly.

'Kirsten?' he asked as he approached, 'Darling…'

'Just go away,' was the shouted response, the hysteria evident in her voice. 'Just go away, back to your doctors and your dodgy deals, back to Griffin, the Newport Group and your damn hospital.'

'Sweetheart…'

'Just don't Sandy. Don't bother. I don't need you and I sure as hell don't want you, not like this.'

'Have you been drinking?'

She stood up at that, shakily and Sandy could take a long look at his wife. Really look at her for the first time in a long time. Finally notice the paleness of her skin, the rings round her eyes and the way her body was on the skinny side of slender. She was fading again and he hadn't noticed, again. The only sparkle in her eyes was from more unshed tears.

'Don't you judge me,' she shouted, 'I refuse to be judged by _you_. Maybe I have. Maybe I couldn't help it. I don't want to be alone and I am. The boys are gonna leave for college, you're gonna be working and I'm gonna be alone with the morals you left behind.'

'You're not…'

'I am. You don't understand. You're never here anymore and even when you are it doesn't feel like it; you're not really _here_. You're home when I'm asleep, you're distracted, you're not the same man anymore. All I have are memories of what it used to be like, what you used to be like, and that just makes it worse because it hurts, it really, really hurts. I don't know what else to do to numb the pain except drink Sandy.'

'Kirsten…'

'Not that you care.'

'I do care.'

'If you cared it wouldn't have got this far, we wouldn't be here right now and I wouldn't be feeling like this.'

'How do you feel?'

'God I don't even know anymore. Confused. Hurt. Angry. Angry with myself for drinking, angry with you for driving me to it.'

'Me?'

'Yes Sandy, you. I would never blame you solely for last year but this time it is your fault.'

'Wh…'

'You've become everything I never wanted. I may as well have married Jimmy, but you know, actually he would never have hurt me like this.'

'He hurt you when he slept with Julie.'

'That was more than twenty years ago, it was an accident. Plus, you know what you're doing, you just don't seem to realise what it's doing _to_ me and to you.'

'And that is?'

'I feel like I'm reliving my childhood, I feel like I'm trapped in my mother's marriage…'

'I would never have an affair.'

'Not with a woman. A job, a business; yes.'

'I never meant…'

'I don't care what you meant. You know, they say that when you grow up you marry your father, I thought I'd escaped that but obviously not.'

'I am not your father Kirsten.'

'No you're not. He admitted to being underhand and corrupt. He did what he did for his family, not for himself.'

'I'm not…'

'I don't want to hear it. I can't cope with it right now. I have two sons leaving for college in a matter of weeks, one of whom might have been a father without his knowledge for the past two years. A husband who can't even find the time to be home for dinner one night in six months, who doesn't say goodbye when he leaves, who comes home in the early hours and goes to the office before I wake up, who didn't even know how close his wife was to relapsing till it happened because they are just so disconnected.'

'So you did drink?'

'Yes I did. What you gonna do about it Sandy? Ship me off to rehab so you don't have to deal with me? You don't deal with me anyway; we're practically living separate lives and that's what's caused this. I hate being alone and you force me to be. The reasons are staring you in the face; I'm a mother soon to be without sons, a wife without a husband and a rehabilitated alcoholic who just fell off the wagon.' Kirsten finished her angry speech and then paled. '…I think I'm gonna be sick,' she muttered before stumbling a few feet and hurling into the bushes. Sandy was immediately behind her, one arm around her waist, his other hand lifting her hair out of her face. She flinched away from his touch, unable to do more at that point.

'Don't,' she snapped, lurching away when she could breathe again. She stumbled and Sandy caught her as she began being sick again, sobs mixing with the retches. This was the comfort, the touch she so craved and yet now she could barely stand it.

'God, how much did you drink Kirsten?' he asked.

She straightened up, eyes flashing angrily. 'Not enough.'

'Kirsten!'

'Shut up Sandy. I had one glass that I didn't even want but had to drink, that I wouldn't have drank except I wanted it so damn bad.'

'You must have food poisoning or something then.'

'This is just my body reacting to alcohol after not having it for ten months. See how I'm always an alcoholic now Sandy? I can slip at any time. Ten days, ten months, ten years. I'm always gonna be one glass away and I need you there with me when I pick it up. I need you there before it happens.'

'I'm sorry.'

'That's not enough anymore. I don't know how you think it could be. You're too late. This whole thing is making me sick. Perhaps this is simply bile coming up; the bile I've swallowed every time you've cancelled a date, every time you've called to say you're working late, every time you haven't called and I've sat up waiting for you, every time I wake up and you've already left, every time you've told me how 'important' this hospital is to you. More important than me and our family.'

'That's not true.'

'Is it? Is it really? Because it sure as hell has felt like it. Maybe this is the reaction to being so confused inside.'

'What sort of confused?'

'That I hate you.'

'Kirsten I…'

'Let. Me. Finish. That I hate you so damn much that I don't want to be with you and yet at the same time I need you. And I still love you. I hate myself for still loving you. I hate myself for hating you. I love hating you. I hate loving you. I can't win. I hate that you do this to me.'

'Do what?'

'Make it so I can't live with you but can't live without you. Something had to give and it was my willpower that did.'

'Why?'

'You are _not_ asking me why Sandy. You're _not_.'

'No, I meant…why right now?'

'I couldn't take it any more. It almost happened the other night…it's almost happened several times. I was just getting closer and closer and tonight…tonight I knew I wouldn't hurt the boys.'

'You're a good mother.'

'They need one good parent.'

'That's harsh.'

'But well deserved.'

'We're not arguing right now.'

'Seems like we haven't stopped.'

'We're going home. We'll talk about it all tomorrow.'

'Tomorrow? Really? What's to say you'll be there?'

'I will. I promise.'

'That doesn't mean anything anymore Sandy.'

'You don't trust me?'

'I'm not so sure. You've broken promises too many times.'

'I'm sorry.'

'That doesn't mean anything either.'

'I know we need to sort this out. Tomorrow I'll call Dr Woodruff…'

'Why? So you can send me away again?'

'Because I think he needs to know about this.'

'This problem is a lot bigger than me relapsing.'

'Maybe it is.'

'Maybe?' Kirsten deflated at his words; face crumpling as she fought tears again. Sandy, suddenly consumed with guilt, pulled her close. She struggled violently but he locked his arms against her resistance. 'I love you,' he said, pressing kisses to her forehead. 'I _love_ you, does that mean anything?'

His wife recoiled as far from the kisses as his grasp would let her. 'I hate you,' she cried, forcing her arms upwards and beating at his chest. 'I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.' The words became lost in her sobs and she flopped exhausted against his chest. When the tears subsided he heard her ask, almost to herself, 'So why do I love you so much?'

'I don't know,' Sandy answered, resting his head on hers. 'I don't know.'

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Well, can I compete with Josh? Please review. This will probs be the last post for a while – school and exams – ick! So hope you enjoyed it and have a good life until we meet again…which hopefully shouldn't be too long!

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